I'm on twenty-four hour watch. I have someone in my room while I sleep. I never have a moment to myself. When I told those at McKinley what was happening they all gaped. That was it, no words. Just their mouths wide open. IT hurt but I brushed it off for now.
   
We have daily meetings with everyone in the teen wing. I felt understood when meeting these people. Like they all knew my problems and I could just open up even more.
   
"I'm Emma, in the last meeting I really opened up. I've never told anyone about my abusive father, until my friends saw the bruises. They started asking questions. I kept making up stories about being clumsy. After a few months of being brutally hit by my father I started cutting," she started breaking out into tears. 
   
There was no need to, we all understood. We have all been in her shoes. No need to feel ashamed. 
   
"I think this is enough for Emma today, how about you, Kurt?," the head of the teen wing, Rhonda, said. 
   
"Well, umm, I'm Kurt. I'm gay. Haha, I hate putting that in my bio. I mean, I don't have a problem with it. Actually my friend, Blaine has made me more confident in being gay. But, yeah, sometimes I wish I was straight. It would make my whole life so much easier. None of this would happen. No cutting. Probably no depression. And no bullying. Ahh, how amazing that would be. One day without being pushed into lockers, one day without being called "lady lips," A tear slipped out of my eye as I spoke. Rhonda looked at him sadly and nodded signifying I was done for now.
   
"Now, how about Eric?" 
   
"I'm Eric, my mom killed herself when I was five and my dad left me when I was a baby. I have jumped foster home to foster home. I'm known as "the troubled child." I guess when people picture a perfect child they don't think of me. The families I go to don't want to deal with a child who cuts and who is majorly depressed without medication." 
   
"Okay, that enough for today. Enough crying for one meeting," Rhonda says. Mercedes walked in with way too much bling on to count. The whole time she was there she wasn't herself, no one that seems to be themselves when they visit. Maybe it's the plain walls that seem to depress everyone or maybe it's me. I speak of myself in third person a lot. 
   
I think that my life is a story, and I'm the narrator. This story is going to end soon. Not with a good ending. I do a lot of thinking here. Not much to do, besides when Blaine comes, my frown always becomes a smile from ear to ear when he comes in the room. Suddenly while I was thinking about Blaine (which is most of the time) he put his hands around my eyes and says "Guess who?" 
   
I can tell his voice from anywhere.
   
"Blaine!" I say giggling genuinely for the first time in a long time.
   
He pressed his lips against mine right when I turned my head. Our lips fit together like two puzzle pieces. It was my first kiss. And I wouldn't have wanted it with anybody else. I felt this spark in the kiss that sent my heart racing.
   
"I love you," I whispered as our lips spaced apart. I truly did. He had done so much for me already and I loved him so much for all he's done.
   
"I love you," Blaine said with his amazing smile. The days were much better with Blaine. Cutting never even entered my mind anymore. In a technical term as my therapist refers to, he is my "comfort." The person who makes me happiest. The months pass by, I get happier by the day. "My story" is now going to have a happy ending. I had a daily meeting with my therapist as usual. She gave me a depression test. I scored a nine on a scale of zero to fifty. It's the lowest score I've ever gotten. The Prozac is helping and definitely Blaine is a huge help. He's my "comfort." I smiled at that and was grinning the whole time. She said I was only going to be there a month more. With one exception. I had to go this month without Blaine. I hastily silenced. I couldn't do that. I would jump right back to cutting. Memories flashed in my mind of four blades sliding across my wrist. The stinging feeling right before the blood rushes out. I look down at my old cuts, and suddenly everything just goes black. I passed out. I was so afraid of being without Blaine that I passed out. My life feels so much more complete with him. What was I going to do for this month?